Junak Baruah wants to win the prestigious short film competition in his university. But with hundreds of participants and a stellar jury on board, winning means making a film that's never been made before.
And that means breaking the rules and taki...
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They could not even make it past the drawing room.
Junak blindly fumbled with the lock as Dikhou pushed him against the door, kissing him with a desperation that paralleled Junak's own - hungry and rough and earnest, like the world was falling apart around them and this was the only chance they had. In a way, it was probably true. Come tomorrow, they would be back in the village, with all the homophobes, Dikhou's family, Niribili's ominous warnings and away from each other...
And they both knew it.
Junak buried his hands in Dikhou's hair as he deepened the kiss, their tongues tangled in each other. Dikhou had his arms around Junak's waist, pulling him closer though they were already pressed together.
It was wild and feverish. And everything was on fire. Junak hadn't done this in a long time and even then, it was never like this. There was so much raw desire in Dikhou's kiss, in his touch, that Junak did not know what to do with it.
He pulled out of the kiss, smiling as Dikhou involuntarily leaned forward like there was some invisible force connecting him to Junak. "Wait," Junak panted.
The house was mostly dark, lit dimly by the recessed lights in the ceiling. Most of Dikhou's face was bathed in shadows but Junak did not miss the way his lips were glistening wet.
Junak ran a tongue over his own wet lips. He caught Dikhou's hands and guided them under his shirt, over his bare skin. "Touch me."
Dikhou's eyes widened, very briefly, but then he was kissing Junak again. He slid his hands up Junak's flanks before letting his warm fingers roam over his chest and stomach. His hands were rough but his touch was hesitant, gentle and so fucking electric Junak was sure he was going to lose his mind.
Dikhou let go of Junak's lips only to kiss him along his jaw and neck. Junak moaned as Dikhou's teeth grazed his throat and those hands - those fucking hands - were trailing along his spine. His stomach was an absolute mess of knots and jitters and...
He could not believe this was actually happening.
As if feeling the same, Dikhou pulled away, very slightly, to look at Junak. He did not say anything. He was not wearing any of his usual mischievous smiles as his eyes searched Junak's face.
It was absolutely ridiculous, after all they had already done, that Junak blushed under his scrutiny. "W-What?"
"You look..." Dikhou trailed off, panting.
Junak smiled a catlike grin revealing his teeth. His lips felt a little sore. "What?"
Dikhou closed his eyes and shook his head. He then hid his face on Junak's shoulder, and said, "I don't... I don't know what I'm doing."
Junak fisted his fingers in Dikhou's hair and pulled, forcing him to look up at him. Dikhou seemed so genuinely shy and conflicted, it made Junak a little weak in his knees. "It's okay. F-Follow my lead?"
